


two anarchists walk into a theatre

by Donnieambie_Dawn



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Gen, Humor, Hyrule's origin story, I gave Hyrule a brother to better trounce Warriors, LU is a tv show and Hyrule needs c a s h, let hyrule swear 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donnieambie_Dawn/pseuds/Donnieambie_Dawn
Summary: “What’s this for anyways?”“Some new tv show; it’s been adapted from a comic series so you know it’s gonna be shit.” William frowns at Ash’s response like he just admitted to pickpocketing an old lady. “What? It’s true.” Ash flips the flier over. “Look, Linked Universe auditions, May 15th, looking for 12 to 19 year olds, preferably blonde. You’ll fit right in, Will.”ORMy addition to the Linked Universe Actors AU: Hyrule Edition!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	two anarchists walk into a theatre

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this then promptly buried it in wips- I'm not adding anything more to it so I decided to post.  
> Beta read and edited by thephilosophersapprentice here on Ao3! (And also my brother)  
> \--------------------------------------

“We aren’t fucking sellouts,” says Ashton, 16 year old street con. “I’m just saying we could use the cash.”   
  


And they could. Currently, Ash is sitting on the end of a ratty couch that looks like it’s gone through the garbage compactor at least twice in its miserable life. It's such a shit piece of furniture that when they found it, he was one part appalled at the state of it and two parts impressed at the sheer fucking audacity the owner had for dumping it alongside their trash like the couch wasn’t twice as worthless.  
  
William, poor sweet William, looks at Ashton like he’s lost his mind. “You want to act?”  
  


“I want _you_ to act.”Ash turns to his younger brother sharply, and the couch gives a screech like ten million rats have been lodged in the cushions. It certainly would explain the lumpiness. “You get this gig and we can move into an actual apartment. I’ll even stop my street stuff, brother’s honor.”

  
William playfully throws an empty chip bag at him, which flies half a foot before it catches wind and falls onto the crusty floor. “Your honor is shit but this place is shittier.” He regrabs the bag, prying it open in search of any remaining crumbs for the fifth time that day. He finds nothing because the universe hates the Anderson brothers almost as much as the Anderson brothers hate themselves.

  
“Auditions are tomorrow and we have pizza in the minifridge, you don’t have to eat the chip bag.”   
  
“Don’t tell me how to live my life!” William goes to the minifridge despite him. “What’s this for anyways?” 

  
“Some new tv show; it’s been adapted from a comic series so you know it’s gonna be shit.” William frowns at Ash’s response like he just admitted to pickpocketing an old lady. “What? It’s true.” Ash flips the flier over. “Look, Linked Universe auditions, May 15th, looking for 12 to 19 year olds, preferably blonde. You’ll fit right in, Will.”  
  
Will huffs, crossing his arms. He has pizza in his mouth, cheeks puffy and hair looking soft despite the fact that his last shower was in a public bathroom five days ago. It’s utterly adorable in a way that only Will Andserson can be- like a particularly angry stray kitten, or a ray of sunlight that’s a little too bright for the eyes. “You’re like a little dandelion.” Ash says before he gets smacked in the chest with 80 pounds of overgrown toddler. The couch makes another hellsound as it gives way.

  
“Then you’re a _dead_ dandelion!” Will laughs as he goes on the attack, yanking a fistful of his mousy brown locks.

“Oww! Ow, hey! Not the fucking hair!”

  
They struggle for a minute more before Ash surrenders, and Will eats his five day old victory pizza like he hasn’t just assaulted his poor, frail older brother. It takes two minutes to finish up, plus thirty seconds to sort out the mess of tangles and holes they call a blanket.  
  
“Goodnight, brother.” William says, curling up into Ash’s chest so he doesn’t have to touch the grimy, pilled couch. Ashton doesn’t complain about not being able to breathe, and instead pulls the ratty blanket closer to Will’s neckline. “Night.”  
  


* * *

  
The next morning they get dressed in the least dirty clothes they have, which still equates to homeless in the eyes of the public. Not like they care though, they’ve got a job interview to get to.  
  


“Mind your fucking business!” Ashton yells at a stranger that stares a little too intently at Will. He knows that two dirty children wandering the good part of downtown is sure to raise _some_ eyebrows, but holy shit, Ashton is this close to kicking in the pearly whites of the next soul that smiles down at them and asks where their very dead mother is.

  
“Ashton, refrain from assault.” William reminds him like the patient angel he is. “We’re gonna strike it big in Hollywood and then you can pay people for silence.”  
  
“Won’t have to pay them if they can’t speak.” Ash grumbles.  
  


The couple from earlier quickly scurries away with one last glare, walking into a nearby building with the words AUDITION painted on the side in washable chalk marker. The brothers look at each other and nod, walking into the building, unknowingly freaking out the couple more.  
  
“Honey, they’re following us!” The woman says while glancing over her shoulder like she’s in a dark alley and not in a crowded theatre.  
  
“We aren’t following shit! We’re here for the fucking job!” Ash glowers while William weakly protests with an “Ashton! Play nice,” and a little pout and oh no, he's weak.  
  


“The job?” An older, dark haired woman looks up from the center desk and beckons them over with a look that demands that they behave and stop yelling at presumably the parents of the very actors they could be working with. “I assume you want the role of Hyrule?” The woman says, directing all three ounces of her attention to Ashton.  
  
“Oh, no. I’m just taking my little brother. We’re looking for Wind? We heard that Mask might be making a comeback from the comics, so if that’s available we’ll try for that too.” Ashton strains his smile, which immediately falls.  
  
“I’m sorry, but that role is taken.”

  
William looks crushed, and Ash knows it's not all for show. Apparently the receptionist is jaded to this response because she turns to him like the greedy bitch she is and tries to shoehorn him into another moneymaking role. “It’s ok _sweetheart,_ I’m sure Wind doesn’t have a stunt double yet.”

  
William comes back from the brink of tears. “Stunt double?”

  
“Yeah, stunt double.” Says a lanky, golden blonde in the back of the room. From the way he’s sitting, coffee in hand and stylist on shoulder, he’s been here the whole time. He looks like a stereotypical rich brat that hasnt had to work a day in his life, with the way he types with manicured nails and generally holds himself. Ash tries not to judge. “Basically you do flips and fight scenes for the actors when it gets too dangerous for them to handle. It’s badass, and the position isn’t taken yet. You should try.”   
  


The starbucks blonde then points to a red door on the other side of the room. “It’s right over there, past the storage room, left two doors down.” Before the man can finish, William is running to the door.

  
“PArkour!” Will screams shrilly as he clears two folding chairs and lands on his ass.  
  
“You’re a natural.” blondie says flatly. Will is too busy running away to respond.

  
The waiting room is silent once more, sans the occasional metallic crash from the aforementioned red door. Good, William should learn to let loose every once in a while. Give em’ hell.  
  
Then, some five minutes later, someone rudely taps him on the shoulder.

  
Apparently Ashton isn’t allowed to sit in the waiting room, which is _actually_ stupid. Why else would you _have_ a waiting room? For fucking show? Ashton makes a point to attempt to understand rich people- if he’s going to be dealing with their fucking nonsense lingo and backwater waiting rooms, he’s going to be in-the-know too. Time to go stumble across some answers then.

  
The room has five doors total, one of which leads to the outside and the other to a janitor’s closet, so he has three options. Ash is two seconds away from walking through the red door when a hoity staff member swings aside a curtain and disappears. Ok, yeah, figures that some doors would be hidden- its an audition for a _Zelda_ cartoon. Making his way over to the curtain as casually as he can is accidentally harder than it should be, but the second he slips through the crack in the void he’s home free. Cue the LOZ Secret sound, and ready the boss theme!  
  


The older Anderson has been wandering his entire life, so running through the darkened halls of the theatre is both familiar and exciting in a way that makes sense if you’re a sixteen year old thief that’s just been given free range of an upper-class theatre. Shit, maybe they don’t need to get that job at all, he thinks while scrying a jagged crystal chandelier.  
  
Ash bumps into something tall and warm.  
  
“Uhh. . .”

  
“Hello there!” A woman with two toned hair says between gritted teeth. It looks like she’s going to strangle him and Ash is suddenly hyper aware that they are very _very_ alone right now. She opens her blue and brown eyes, wide with manic liver failure yellow and just a hint of sleep deprivation red. 

  
“Are you ok?” Ashton says before internally facepalming. Who the fuck says that?!  
  
“I’m f~iiiiine, but what about you? You look dead, Ruulie.”   
  
Ashton opens his mouth to say something. Closes it. Opens it again and manages a meager “what?”  
  
“Get on set _now._ You must see her.” She grabs his arm, dragging him to a purple door at the other end of the room. Ash is too busy being fucking flabbergasted to do anything about it.  
  


“LIRA! I have fresh meat for your producer dogs!”  
  
And the purple door is thrown wide open.

  
The room is well lit. Fake trees line the walls where blonde children run amok like honeybees. “For the power of Hyrule!” One suspiciously small teenager yells before- holy shit there are _four of them?!?_ _  
__  
_“Ah, yes, the Smith brothers. Don’t mind them.” Says the manic lady. Ashton can only stare before his brain catches up with his mouth.  
  
“There were five of them in the comics.”  
  


“Surprise, bitch.” Says a _fifth_ fucking boy.

  
Ashton does not scream like a little girl, but he does reflexively punt the fucker. 

  
“Please don’t attack your fellow actors, Hyrule.” The fifth gremlin boy says, dusting himself off even though the fabric of his black-violet tunic never touched the ground.  
  
“Hyrule?”  
  
“I assume that’s the part you auditioned for?”  
  
Ashton stares at him with the blankest stare he can muster. Dial up noises are ringing in his ears. “Why does everyone keep thinking that?!I didn’t audition for shit! I’m not even fucking blonde what the fuck!”  
  


“You don’t need to be blonde, you just need to _be_ .” A middle aged woman in the stereotypical fashion walks up to him. She shakes his hand, taking advantage of the fact that Ash’s brain is currently hot mush soup.  
  
“Did I just get the fucking job?” Ashton says incredulously, remembering the struggles that were his last 5 interviews. All failed of course.  
  
“If you’ll have it.” The woman smiles at him smugly like she knows he can’t afford to turn this down. Bitch. 

  
“How much does this even pay?” He raises an eyebrow at her, crosses his arms and attempts to look like he has the upper hand, even though he has absolutely no control of the situation. “I’ve got high standards you know.”  
  


Her eyes glance over him once, mouth slightly smirked. She acts like she knows the next line to come out of her slightly smeared magenta lipstick ass is going to make him drop to the floor and praise her with an open lighter. And if that wasn’t fucking enough, she’s dragging this on longer than it needs to go. She’s doing the human equivalent holding a treat in front of a starving dog to make it dance. Ash is about to cave in and bite her when she finally speaks: “High standards, tch. How’s 50k a year plus a paid for two bedroom apartment? You’ll have it as long as you have your contract.”  
  
“I owe you my first born.” _Hyrule_ says, preparing to grab the knife in his pocket to complete the blood ritual for eternally binding deals. He takes a deep breath. “I’ll take the job but I have no idea why you want me.”  
  
Hylia, because this is _the director_ , laughs at him. “Dirty brown hair, hazel eyes, got lost in the theatre.” She counts down on her fingers. “You’re perfect.”  
  
“Well _excuse you_ , I wasn’t lost.” Hyrule snips at her before realizing that maybe getting uppity with your new boss who’s going to pay for your apartment is a bad idea.  
  


“What are you then, a thief?”

  
Hyrule remains passively silent.  
  
  
“Oh my God, Fi where did you _find_ this kid? I love him.”  
  
“Wh-” Hyrule stutters because that’s not how people usually react to almost getting robbed.  
  


“I found him staring at the vibe check chandelier like a particularly large moth!” The two toned woman, now Fi, says with glee.  
  
“Why’s it called the vibe check chandelier?”

  
Hyrule regrets asking the second one of the smaller boys stroll up to him and hands him a loosely notched bow. “Fuck around and find out.” Red says before rejoining his cloned brethren.  
  
Hylia sighs, “We let the actors use real bows on set, and they make it a competition of sorts to see who has the best aim.”  
  
“But their aim is all shit.” Fi says, slowly handing Hylia a frap from under her blazer like she’s dealing cocaine in front of the cops. With the way that pale dude in the red leggings is glaring at her, she just might have a reason to be cautious. “The arrows fly everywhere and they have a tendency to catch on _that_ specific chandelier when we’re filming in the big room. Hence, vibe check.”

  
“And you keep putting it up?”  
  
“It hasn’t really fallen down. . .” She rubs her neck sheepishly, “It just rains shattered glass onto the set.”

  
Hylia’s eyes go wide with the realization that she should probably be telling him this _after_ she has his soul in ink and paper. Eyes rapidly darting from Fi to Hyrule and then to the mysterious pale dude in the back, she yells,“Ghirahim!” after a frap-induced pause. “Can you get me Hyrule’s contract from the main office?”

  
“I AM A _MAKEUP! ARTIST_ ! FI IS YOUR _PERSONAL_ ASSISTANT! USE _HER_ !” He screeches, dropping his pearly makeup brushes on the nearest table before storming out the door. It swings wildly before slamming into place. The room is silent for a few seconds, then Hylia turns to Fi and calmly says, “Now that he’s gone, can you get the contract? I left it in his room when I was stealing his zoran heaven eyeshadow palette and I can’t let him know.”   
  
Fi leaves the room from a separate door and the chatter starts to pick back up with the same enthusiasm as a testing classroom the second the teacher leaves. From the corner of his eye he can see Hylia watching him, not subtle at all in the way she all but makes cash-money noises in his direction. Hyrule scratches at a flea on the nape of his neck and Hylia _squeals._

  
“I am already regretting this.”  
  
“Well, It’s not too late to leave. You haven’t signed the contract.” The Red boy from earlier is back. He looks young at first glance, but his voice betrays him in the most jarring way possible. Hyrule wonders how much he can push his luck today before he decides, no, he doesn’t do short jokes on the first date.

  
“I’m Ashton.” Hyrule says, sticking out his left hand in inconvenience.  
  
“Link Smith.” Red shakes back, unfettered, “But call me Ryan, we’re all named Link Smith.” He gestures to his clones, presumably brothers, all wearing solid color tunics according to their character. “Everyone except Shadow is Link Smith, so you’re going to need to ask for nicknames.”   
  
“Your mother sounds deranged.” Hyrule says bluntly because he has no fucking filter. Thank God Ryan laughs instead of immediately shooting him with that very _real_ bow on his back. “She was a character! But actually, our father came up with the names. Believe it or not, they’re pop culture references.”  
  
“Oh? To what?”  
  
“Four swords adventures.” Ryan sighs. A small hand drags down his face as he makes a weak keening noise. “It was his favorite video game growing up and it was _hell_ for us in school.”   
  
“Wow. You were literally born to play the part.”

  
Ryan doesn’t glare at him, but he certainly gives Hyrule a look that equates to _if you don’t shut up right now I will violently remind you that I am ball punching height._

 _  
_Hyrule backs off in an exaggerated, hands up sort of way, attempting to diffuse the situation with an impromptu game of charades. Ryan seemingly gets the message and leaves to rejoin his brothers with a final, “I look forward to working with you!”

  
Hyrule waves back because it's the polite thing to do, nothing more.  
  
A few minutes later Fi comes into the room balancing three styrofoam cups and two clipboards. She sets them on a folding table in the back and beckons him and the director to come over without looking up from her table, which is lowkey a power move. The next ten minutes pass as a somewhat intense, yet boring questionnaire interview hybrid, complete with uncomfortable questions about his past. Oh? You live in a rat ass motel? That’s ok, we’ll get you moved into the actors apartment in two days, tops. We aren’t going to ask any questions about where your parents are or when you last got your rabies shots because we need you to stay out of police custody. Oh! We almost forgot!

  
“Your name?” Hylia asks him sweetly, not paying attention in the slightest as she sips on her third frap of the evening.

  
“Ashton Anderson.”  
  
The frap goes all over the table.

  
“You’re Ashton Anderson?! _The_ Ashton Anderson?!” She says with slight actual fuck-me-sideways-no-fucking-way, panic in her voice. It sounds like she’s either just won the lottery or has just been told that one relative she really hates is dead with an intact insurance policy. Either way, it spells money for her and imminent destruction for him.  
  
“Uh, yes?”  
  


“The famous child actor, Ashton Anderson? The six year old star of the original Legend of Zelda movie and its inevitable sequel?!”

  
Hyrule scowls into his coffee cup, taking a sip to shut himself up. Of course people know about him, he’s a goddamn Anderson and he owns it. Used to, anyhow. He swallows the scalding liquid and turns to her. “Look, lady, that was a long time ago. I was, according to you, six, and the sequel came out a year later. It’s been an actual decade. Forgive me if I don’t remember _one_ acting gig out of hundreds.”

  
That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Hylia is now openly gaping at him like a wolf waiting to pounce on a twitchy rabbit. “Hundreds.” She parrots. “Why do you live in a motel? Hundreds. . .” Her eyes are wide and shiny with greedy tears.  
  
“Parents are dead. System is broke. I can take care of William and myself just fine, thank you.” Hyrule bites the edge of his styrofoam cup in irritation, taking out crescents along the edges.

  
“William?” Hylia asks.  
  
*SLAM!*  
  
“MISS HYLIA!” 

  
A pink clad brunette flies into the room with something blonde sitting on her back, everyone collectively scrambling to make the shit-show of a room at least slightly presentable to an outside party.  
  
“I’ve found him!” The woman says, William riding comfortably on her back with a cherry lollipop in his mouth. The end is pinched between his fingers, cigarette style. Ashton the older brother is not amused. “This is the only stunt double so far that Tetra has _approved._ Ma’m. _I_ approve him. I probably won’t even be needed on set, he’s indestructible!”

  
The woman bows with Will still on her back, a young child in a swirl-bun following soon after. The young child speaks up, “This is the one. We have our Wind, Lira- he, he can do _gymnastics_ .”  
  
“You can do gymnastics?” Hyrule asks the now Wind stunt double, who pops the candy out of his mouth and says “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” In a way that makes Hylia swoon. Honestly, Hyrule can’t blame her for being weird this time. His little brother is cute goddamnit, no one can resist his charms.

  
“Oh, do forgive me.” The lady says, putting down her brother with a motherly hand. “My name is Dawn, and this is Tetra, medical and fight choreography, respectively.”  
  
Hyrule tries not to do a double take. “You hired a child for a non acting job?”

  
The actual child huffs at him. “My mom signed the contract for me, but don't take it the wrong way.” She smirks in a way that makes the hairs on the end of Hyrule’s neck stand up. “I call the shots here, not them. Fuck the money, fuck the fame. I make people fight for a living.”  
  
Honestly, fair. Still not going to make the fact that this literal 13 year old is talking about her future so nonchalantly any better. It reminds him of the naivete he had at her age. He shudders and tells himself that this piranha of a girl will be fine, probably. 

  
“Ok, so we both got the job?”  
  
“You still need to sign, _Sir Anderson._ ” Hylia fucking giggles.  
  


Twenty more minutes go by without problem, and before he knows it he’s piggybacking a comatose Will in a busy train station. They make it home around 8pm, but it feels more like 12, and Ashton has no qualms about turning in early.  
  
Despite this, he tucks Will in on the rat couch and pulls out folded cardboard sheets from the gap between the wall and now defunct television. “No time like the present.” Ashton says as he packs away his old life to make room for a temporary new.


End file.
